Little Broken Pieces
by vindictive kitty
Summary: Buffy has been on a collision course ever since her friends brought her back from the dead. Will a chance meeting with a Ministry of Magic official help her get on with her life? And who the heck is this Harry Potter kid? BTVSHP xover Chp 9 Up.
1. Welcome to Sunnyhell

Hey, this is my very first fanfic. I'm kind of nervous about how it will be received, but please review! It takes place during season six of Buffy after Tabula Rosa and is AU after that. It's a crossover with HP and it's set 2 years (roughly) after Harry's seventh year. I've messed with the timelines, but whatever.

Blah blah, I own nothing. Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling own all the characters except any that I happen to make up.

**Welcome to Sunnyhell**

Harry had just arrived in Sunnydale, California, USA a little over 45 minutes ago. He was on an assignment for the Ministry of Magic, an assignment that he had eagerly jumped at when it was offered to him. After defeating Voldemort, Harry had decided to become a full-fledged auror. He had been fighting evil practically his whole life. Being an auror wouldn't be any different.

How wrong he had been. Training to become an auror had been the longest, most boring and bureaucratic experience of Harry's life. He had to take over two years of strenuous courses in defenses and magics before being allowed to take on simple baddies. _Really, _Harry thought. _I took on the Dark Lord when I was barely even a teenager. I killed him when hundreds of trained and skilled wizards had died at his hands before. I think I can handle more than fighting simulations of the bad guys._

So when Harry had been offered the chance to become liaison between officials on America's Hellmouth and the Ministry, Harry had been only too happy to oblige. He missed the action and the fight, the all night research sessions with Ron and Hermione and most of all Hogwarts. Hogwarts had always been his true home. But here he was, in an artificially happy California town, walking through the graveyard.

Harry sighed, fiddling with the stake that had been supplied to him. His ministry briefer had told him about the unusual amount of vampire activity in the town. One of his many jobs was to control the undead population. But the graveyard seemed quiet for the night and Harry found himself wondering if the whole thing was a sham. _Is the ministry just trying to get me out of the way? Give me the equivalent of a desk job?_ In addition to vampire killing, Harry was supposed to provide any and all information he could find about the town's inner-workings: how many demon species populated the area, who the powerful players were, who (if there were any) the good guys were and passing on any warnings of apocalypse.

As Harry was pondering his job description, he noticed a girl walking in front of him. She was a petite, most likely pretty blonde. Walking alone. At night. In a graveyard. On the Hellmouth. That never meant anything good. Harry had barely been in Sunnydale for in hour, but already he wondered how stupid its population was. _Or maybe it's a vampire_, he thought excitedly. Harry grabbed for his stake and crept quietly behind her.

It wasn't long before a vampire, in its game face, approached the blonde girl.

"Hey there, little girl. How's about I take you out for some dinner?"

"Hmm" the girl replied, "How about you make it a dinner and a show, then we'll be talking."

The vampire, who'd expected screaming and begging looked confused. "A show?"

"Yeah, you know, it was a pun. Like I was talking about a movie, but really the show is gonna be me kicking you ass?" The girl pulled a hand out of her pocket revealing a stake.

A look of fear and recognition dawned on the vampire's face. "Slayer," he growled.

The girl replied, "slayee."

Without another word, the vampire turned around and fled. The blonde sighed. "It's no fun when you run away" she called towards the receding figure. Dismissively she shot the stake towards the running vampire. Her aim was impeccable. The vamp turned to dust before he hit the ground.

Harry looked upon the scene with amazement. Who was this girl?

"Damn," she muttered. "I was hoping he'd fight back. I really needed a release."

Suddenly, Harry noticed a man with bright platinum hair and a leather jacket lounging against a tree.

"You know pet, if you need a release, I'm always here to help" the man called over.

The girl jumped, turning around. Her face suddenly became angry. "Oh if it isn't Spike. Don't you have anything better to do then stalk me?"

"Don't kid yourself Buffy," Spike said. "But while we're on the topic, we bloody well need to talk about last night. We had a thing, you can't deny it."

"A thing? A thing?" Buffy snorted derisively. "What are you, in middle school? We kissed! Twice! Once under the influence of magic and last night only because I was seriously depressed! What do you want me to say? You can't seem to accept that I hate you."

Now it was Spike's turn to snort. "Why do you keep trying to fight it, love? With you, no means yes. You've always belonged in the darkness with me."

"You know, sometimes I think that I should ask Willow to put the Buffybot back together. Maybe if you had your little toy to keep you satisfied, you'd finally leave me alone!" Buffy practically spat at him.

"Do you think I want that?" Spike asked, sounding hurt. "I love you Buffy. You may not believe it, but I do. I could never be satisfied with a plastic scrap. I want the real Buffy."

"The real Buffy? Well then you could never love me. The real Buffy is gone. She died. All I am is an empty shell. A dead thing."

Spike moved in to comfort her, saying "Never say that. You are still the girl that I love. A girl with a sister and friends who she means the world to. How about I walk you home?"

"No thanks," Buffy spat, a hysterical look in her eyes. She punched Spike in the face with enormous force and he landed on the ground. "I don't need Spikey the peroxide poodle to walk me home. I can take care of myself."

"I'm only trying to help. Fine, do whatever you want. Just know that I love you."

"I don't care what you think, Spike. You've nothing but a dog, and that will never change. You're beneath me."

Something cracked. Spike looked at once angry and sad beyond belief. "Fine, love. But we both know whose crypt you'll knock on when you're in need of some cold comfort." With that, Spike stalked off.

Harry snapped back to earth. He couldn't believe that he had crouched in the darkness and watched this very private exchange. What was he doing?

Buffy sat on top of a gravestone and stared off into the distance. Harry took this moment to really look at her. He had never seen such a beautiful or sad girl before. Her eyes almost spilled over with misery, loneliness and unshed tears. He realized that what he was witnessing now was much more private then the earlier fight. Harry suddenly felt horrible for spying. He decided to go introduce himself to her.

Harry walked out of the darkness, dreading the awkwardness of the situation. _But it's the least I can do after spying on her._ He was standing in front of her before she even realized he was there. Harry nervously cleared his throat.

"Hmm?" Buffy asked before snapping out of her own little world. She glanced down from the gravestone she was sitting on and saw a guy standing in front of her. _Hmph. Slayer senses my ass. _The guy she noticed, was actually pretty cute. In a lanky, nerdy way, but still. He did have messy black hair and bright green eyes though, so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Whoever he was, he hadn't tried to kill her yet, and that was always a good sign.

"I just couldn't help but notice…well I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to, erm, see that…but yea I noticed that a vampire called you 'slayer' and I'm um from the ministry" Harry finished lamely.

Buffy arched an amused eyebrow before her face turned to stone. "Wait, did you say you were spying on me?" The benefit of the doubt was gone. There was nothing Buffy hated more then feeling vulnerable or not being in charge of the situation.

Harry suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. There was no trace of the sad Buffy or the amused Buffy who he had witnessed for a moment. Her features were hard now and she gave him an icy, penetrating stare. It had been a long time since a girl had turned Harry into a babbling idiot, but the look on Buffy's face made him want to melt into a puddle or disappear.

"You! Who are you! You're with the Watcher's Council aren't you?" she asked accusingly. "I knew that you people would come back! Didn't you get the message the first couple of times! I don't work for you anymore. I quit you back when the mayor was in town and I reminded you of the balance of power when you came to tell me about Glory. What did they send you to say?" she asked, roughly grabbing Harry by the shirt collar and slamming him against a headstone. She gave him a twisted grin. "What does Travers want to know now? How I died? How I clawed my way out of my own grave? Or is that too unseemly? Does he wanna know how Willow did it? Does he want to know if I came back wrong? If I did, does he actually think that he could kill me?" Buffy let him go, a look of savage triumph in her face. "Well you can just tell him to go to hell!"

"Erm" was all Harry could say. He could feel a bruise forming where she had grabbed him around the neck. "Who exactly is the watcher's council?" Not for the first time that night, Harry found himself wondering _Who is this girl?_


	2. Destinies Collide

**Previously…**

"You! Who are you! You're with the Watcher's Council aren't you?" she asked accusingly. "I knew that you people would come back! Didn't you get the message the first couple of times! I don't work for you anymore. I quit you back when the mayor was in town and I reminded you of the balance of power when you came to tell me about Glory. What did they send you to say?" she asked, roughly grabbing Harry by the shirt collar and slamming him against a headstone. She gave him a twisted grin. "What does Travers want to know now? How I died? How I clawed my way out of my own grave? Or is that too unseemly? Does he wanna know how Willow did it? Does he want to know if I came back wrong? If I did, does he actually think that he could kill me?" Buffy let him go, a look of savage triumph in her face. "Well you can just tell him to go to hell!"

"Erm" was all Harry could say. He could feel a bruise forming where she had grabbed him around the neck. "Who exactly is the watcher's council?" Not for the first time that night, Harry found himself wondering _who is this girl?_

**Destinies Collide**

"Oh." The look on the hapless boy's face told Buffy that he was telling the truth. She suddenly felt perplexed and embarrassed. It had seemed like a logical conclusion that he was a watcher. _I mean, he had a British accent and everything! That almost always is a watcher alert! _

Buffy ran a hand through her hair nervously. Everyone at the house had been pretty on edge lately. Recently, the Watchers Council had begun sending inquiries to the Summers household. After the Council had found out that not only had Buffy died and been replaced with a robot, but her witch friend and a bunch of mere humans had resurrected her, Buffy had been bombarded by "routine procedures" and probing questions from the watchers. As soon as one showed up at her doorstep, they got the boot. But before they were sent packing, all of Buffy's unwelcome visitors managed to ask questions about an issue that was still too fresh in Buffy's mind. "It is very important for us to know what type of dimension you ended up in. The case of a resurrected slayer has no precedent. We must know everything, where you woke up, how much you remember and whether you're at full slayer strength." She could almost see the opportunism in their beady eyes. An army of resurrected slayers, is that what they wanted? But Buffy could still remember the feeling of being ripped from Heaven and waking up in a little box that smelled of death and pressed in at her from all sides. She could never forget the terror and hopelessness of her resurrection, but she was trying to repress it. The querying watchers weren't helping the matter.

Buffy was still at a loss as to what to do with the bewildered boy. She wished she hadn't told him those things. Things she hadn't meant to say and things that whoever this kid was, no doubt wouldn't understand. She settled on asking the obvious. "So…are you evil?"

"Not that I'm aware of" replied Harry.

"Oh. Alright then." Buffy tucked her stake back into her jacket. What did it matter if he was lying? Buffy could kill him in 5 seconds if he tried anything. And she really didn't feel like picking a fight with someone. She wanted to go lay down on her bed and sleep. Or stare at the ceiling. Anything that didn't involve thinking.

"Then who are you? Don't you know that it's dangerous to hang around in graveyards at night? Especially in Sunnydale of all places. And wait, why did you call me the slayer?"

Harry sighed. He might as well explain what it was he was doing in Sunnydale. If she caused a problem, he could always perform a memory wipe on her. Harry explained his job description and told Buffy that he had thought that she was either a vampire or a potential victim.

Buffy nodded, this was understandable. It would be much harder for her to explain her reaction to him. But he didn't ask why she attacked him and she didn't supply an answer. Right now Buffy wanted to know about this wizarding world and why they thought they could horn in on her territory.

"You asked why that vampire called me the slayer? Well I guess you could say that that's my job description. The chosen one. The one girl in all the world chosen to fight the forces of evil." Buffy laughed at the end. How many times had she heard that speech before? _Giles_, she thought sadly.

Harry thought about his years at Hogwarts, finding out that he alone could kill Voldemort, or Voldemort would kill him. He had fancied himself an evil fighter, and on his down days wondered why he alone had shouldered the world's burden. Was that what Buffy's life was like? She too had been born with a destiny. Harry felt the self-centered side of himself creep in. _Could a couple vampires here or there really compare to Lord Voldemort? _Harry shivered just thinking of his snake-like opponent.

The two heroes sat side by side for a minute, thinking about their pasts. Buffy finally broke the silence. "Do you need a place to stay? It would be nice to have an ally, and my house is kind of command central anyway. We don't really have any extra rooms, but you could sleep on the couch if you liked." _Oh shit_, Buffy thought. Why had she said that? It had just slipped out of her mouth. Was it because she wanted to stop the awkward silence, or because she felt guilty about beating him up? Buffy didn't even know why she was still sitting with the kid in the first place.

Harry was flabbergasted. The girl who had just tried to kill him was now inviting him to be a guest in his house. Of course, the ministry had supplied him with a place to stay, but Harry found himself agreeing to stay with Buffy. What would he get himself into next?

_Oh God, _Buffy thought. _All I wanted was to ponder my life in silence. How did I end up agreeing to take care of Junior Brit? _

okay, sorry if that chapter was a little annoying, but I didn't really feel like having them do any more exposition than necessary.


	3. Meet the Parents

_Oh God, _Buffy thought. _All I wanted was to ponder my life in silence. How did I end up agreeing to take care of Junior Brit? _

**Meet the Parents**

They walked to Buffy's house in silence, and ten minutes seemed to stretch into an eternity. _Where is the evil dead when you need them?_ Buffy wondered. A little ass kicking might be able to break the awkward silence.

Harry glanced nervously at Buffy several times on the way home. Her face alternated between thoughtfulness and scowling. Harry wondered if the scowling part had anything to do with him. He gulped, remembering the bruise forming on his neck. If Ron could see Harry now, he'd be rolling on the floor laughing. Harry Potter, defeater of Lord Voldemort, scared of a little girl? _No, not a little girl,_ Harry reminded himself. He could sense power coming off of her, dark but not evil, and incredibly strong. He began wondering about this "slayer." Her description of her calling had not been that enlightening.

Harry had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't even realized that he was now standing in front of a house, 1630 Revello Drive to be exact. He wasn't sure why, but the sight of the solid, friendly house comforted him. _No, _he thought, _this isn't just a house, it's a home_.

Buffy stuck her key in the lock, only to find that the door was already opened. "God forbid we ever lock a door" Buffy grumbled. "But I guess that would make it too hard for every demon in Sunnydale to sneak in and attempt to kill us all." Harry found himself laughing at the slayer's playful grousing. Buffy turned around and smiled. That was the first time she had heard a genuine laugh since she'd been resurrected. Everyone had been so concerned on getting everything back to normal that it had been anything _but _normal.

Buffy opened the door with a flourish. "Ta-da!" she said dryly. "And just so that we're clear, the first rule of the slayerettes club is- you do not talk about the slayerettes club." Buffy smiled, but Harry just looked confused.

"Erm, alright" Harry responded, the pop culture reference lost on him.

Buffy led him through the foyer, where he found a site not unlike that of the Gryffindor common room. _Of course, the Gryffindor common room didn't have quite so much weaponry_ he added.

Four pairs of eyes were suddenly focusing on Harry, sending silent questions to Buffy. It wasn't often that the tight knit group met new people worthy enough of being brought to Buffy's house. Was he an actual good guy or a baddie that Buffy had brought in for questioning?

Buffy didn't keep them waiting for answers. She cleared her throat. "Guys, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter. He's the member of some weird Ministry of Magic thingy in England and I offered to let him stay with us for a little while." The four others nodded to Harry politely. "This is Willow Rosenburg, she's a witch too!" Buffy said, motioning towards a pretty redheaded woman who waved in response. _A witch, _Harry thought, cataloguing the information in his mind. "Xander Harris." Harry leaned in to shake hands with a solid, dark haired man who eyed him a little bit suspiciously. "Anya" Buffy jerked her thumb at a blonde woman, who gave a bright, fake smile and stuck out her hand. "And finally, Dawn, my little sister."

A girl with long brown hair flashed Buffy a sour look before saying to Harry, "Hi! I'm Dawn. I hope my sister isn't bossing you around, or like trying to kill you or something. 'Cause that'd be unfortunate." Dawn flicked her hair and went back to whittling a stake.

"Yep" said Buffy. "The gang's all here" she finished lamely. Several of the people on the couch shifted uncomfortably. Buffy groaned inwardly, realizing her mistake. "The Gang" had never been more fractured, and everyone was definitely not here. Tara had broken up with Willow and moved out only a couple of days ago and Giles had moved back to England the same night. The old Buffy would have wanted to kick herself for making such a slipup. But this new Buffy actually found a sort of malicious pleasure in making Willow uncomfortable. _Maybe now that Tara dumped your sorry ass, you might feel a tenth of the pain you've caused me. _Nobody talked about it, but everybody knew what had happened. Willow had tried to make Buffy forget about Heaven, rape her memory like she did Tara's. _It hurt so much, _Buffy thought. _At least when she resurrected me, she had been trying to do the right thing. But trying to make me forget what she had stolen…how could my best friend ever do that to me, be that selfish? _Whoops, there she went again. She had to remind herself not to lapse into so many all-about-Buffy pity parties. When you're the only guest at your own party, it gets kind of lonely.

Anya was the only one who didn't appear uncomfortable. "Oh don't worry about them" she told Harry. "Everyone's feeling all abandoned, especially Willow, since her girlfriend dumped her. I recommended that we all try some group therapy, but nobody ever listens to me. I've heard that sharing your experiences does wonders for your wellbeing."

"Anya!" Xander cried. "How could you say something that insensitive?" Willow looked as if she'd been slapped. She stood up abruptly and left the room. "I think you should go apologize to her" Xander told Anya, who stalked off muttering something about tightwads, vengeance and a prescription for Zoloft.

"Welcome to our happy little family," Dawn sniffed ironically. Buffy just sighed dismissively.

Harry said nothing. He had never felt so persistently uncomfortable and awkward as he had in the short time he had known Buffy. He suddenly wished that he was doing something fun with Ron and Hermione, rather than hanging out with these odd, distant people.

"Wait," Xander said. "Did you say that Giles Jr. is sleeping here?" he asked, making an expansive gesture.

"I believe I did." Buffy responded.

"Don't you think that it's a little crowded?" Xander shot Harry another slightly suspicious look. Xander leaned in, disregarding Harry and asked "I mean, how can you be so sure that he isn't evil? Or a watcher" he added darkly.

"Hello. Standing right here" Harry added.

"Well, I found out the hard way that he wasn't a watcher. And I can't be sure about that first part" she replied. "I barely know him. But I don't think Harry's evil and I _do _think that an ally, especially one with connections in high places is a good thing." Harry shot her a grateful look. It was strange though. In the wizarding world, he had grown so used to being fawned over as the famous Harry Potter. But here, he was just a bureaucrat. _No, an ally_ he thought, his face splitting into a grin.


	4. Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite

Ok, new chapter finally up. Yes, this is going to be a Buffy/Harry pairing, but it's going to be kind of different.

magicscales- I did do a rather bad job with the reactions. I didn't really factor them into the story in my impatience to post that chapter. But I'm going to explain Harry's reaction in this chapter and probably Buffy's in the chapter after this one. I might do Willow's too, but only if I find a way to fit it into the story.

Tell me what you thought of this chapter! I had a hard time writing it, but hopefully it came out right.

**Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite**

Harry had tried to help Dawn set up the couch, but she was having none of it. "No, you're the guest, I'll set it up, thank you very much" she said as she swatted Harry's hands away. "Alright, you win" Harry said resignedly. "But if you really want to help me, you could explain to me this whole slayer deal.

"You don't know?" Dawn asked incredulously. "Buffy invited you to be our guest, but you don't know her job description? I mean, obviously you're a wizard and you know about demons, so what's the excuse?"

"Well, apparently she thought I was something called a watcher, so we didn't exactly hit it off. Buffy didn't really explain the whole slaying thing except to say that she's some sort of chosen demon hunter. I don't think she really wants me here," Harry said, suddenly uncomfortable.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Oh Buffy, ever the drama queen. I can't really blame her though, I mean, you are British."

"What does being British have to do with anything?" Was Buffy some sort of weird, anti-British person?

"Well, the guys at the Watchers Council are sort of Buffy's former bosses. And they didn't exactly end their business relationship on a good note."

"Obviously," Harry said, gingerly touching his neck.

"Wow, there's a lot Buffy hasn't told you" Dawn said. "Sit down, this is gonna take a while…"

An hour later, Harry still couldn't believe it. Of course, Dawn hadn't given him the whole story. She had left out or shortened the worst and most personal moments. How Angel had gotten his moment of true happiness, for instance. It was still hard for her to talk about Buffy's death and resurrection though. She didn't tell Harry about finding Buffy's broken body and knowing that it was all her fault she was dead. Or finding her after the resurrection, so lost and alone, her knuckles still bleeding from punching through her coffin. Or that Buffy had been in heaven. _Ok, I left out a lot. So sue me. This wasn't my story to tell anyway._

After that, Harry lay awake thinking about what he had learned. _God, this girl had been through a lot. And she died! Twice! Oh, and her sister is a magical key. _Suddenly the things Buffy had said in the graveyard made sense. He remembered the pain and loneliness in her eyes, suddenly feeling a kindred spirit in her. How many times had he cursed that prophecy and his destiny, wondered if being Harry Potter was the thing that would get his friends killed.

Harry tossed uncomfortably on the couch. He couldn't seem to fall asleep. First he fluffed up his pillow, but then the blanket was too itchy, so he threw that off in irritation. _Ouch! _he thought as he became aware of something digging into his back. Sticking his hand between the cushions, Harry extracted the stake that Dawn had been whittling earlier. He tossed the offensive weaponry on the ground and got off of the couch all together. He couldn't sleep and he needed to gather his thoughts anyway.

_Ok, so what do I know so far? _Harry wondered. _The hellmouth has its very own slayer guarding it. Why hadn't anyone at the ministry told him that? _Harry smelled a rat. The Ministry had to have known about a force as old and as powerful as the slayer. By all rights, Buffy should have been well known. According to Dawn, she departed radically from the path of the traditional slayer. Harry made a mental note to owl Hermione and ask her what she knew about the slayer. And he wouldn't report his findings to the Ministry just yet.

Harry padded lightly across the floor, on the way to the kitchen for a glass of water. On his way, he noticed the pictures on the mantel and stopped to study them. One showed Dawn, Buffy and who he believed was their mother. All three were wearing santa hats and grinning lopsidedly at the camera. _So this is what a happy Buffy looks like, _Harry noted. Another showed Buffy, an older man with glasses and Xander barbecuing in the backyard. Xander was giving a thumbs up sign and Buffy had given him bunny ears while tossing her other arm out in a theatrical manner. In the last picture, Buffy, Willow and Xander all sat together, their arms across each other's shoulders. They looked so young, so happy…so innocent. He was struck by how much they reminded him of himself, Ron and Hermione.

"Those were the days."

Harry spun around, surprised and embarrassed. Buffy stood in front of him, a small smile on her lips. "I didn't mean…sorry" Harry stated lamely.

"It's alright. It's been a long time since I looked at these pictures. Buffy picked up the last picture and held it gingerly. "This was taken when we were sixteen." She laughed. "Let's see, that was after the Master, before Angelus and between apocalypses!" She wasn't bitter. The Master, Angelus, every big bad that came after them, tethered her to this world, gave her something tangible to fight. It was easy to kick evil ass. It was a little harder to kick post-post mortem depression.

Harry smiled back at her. "You and your mates…you remind me of my friends."

"Really?" Buffy asked. "That's nice. My friends have always been the ones to keep me keep me going, keep me alive (quite literally actually)."

"Of course" Harry said. He understood this. "My friends are probably the only reason I'm alive too."

"Our friends, our family, they're the reasons that we keep going, keep fighting. I don't know about you Harry, but that's my motivation. For them." A beam of light from a passing car fell upon Buffy's face, but came and went like a flickering candle. Her face was hidden in the darkness again, except for the glimmer of her eyes. "Keep them close, you never know when things will change."

Buffy pulled her black leather coat closer to her body, as if a chill had passed through the room. She bent down and picked up the stake that had offended Harry earlier. "Hey! I was looking for that" she said happily, tucking it into her pocket. She walked towards the door. "Patrolling" she said simply.

Harry stared after her. Buffy paused as she pulled open the door. "Goodnight, Harry." And with a flash of blonde hair and the click of a door, she was gone.


	5. Playing With Matches

Warning: Spuffiness lies ahead. But don't worry; an end will be put to that.

**Playing With Matches**

Buffy closed the door, sucking in her breath. _That was a close call. _She had been surprised to see Harry up this late at night. She was shaken, but made up an obvious sounding excuse. If she just slipped out without detection, it would have been as if nothing had happened. But now someone had seen her leave, and Buffy irrationally thought that that made what she was about to do more real. _God, I'm an idiot _she thought. _What kind of person slips out at night in hopes of running into a neutered vampire?_

"Argh!" she cried as she strode down the sidewalk. "I'm like a moth drawn to the flame. An evil and incredibly sexy flame. Bad, bad Buffy!" Of course that was Spike's cue to pop out of the bushes. _What, is he stalking me? _Buffy wondered. And then _oh, yea, yea he is. Congratulations self, for the worst timing ever award._

"So, Slayer, you finally admit it" Spike said with a smirk. He swaggered towards her with the most dignity that a person who pops out ofbushes could muster. "You think I'm sexy," he said, drawing out the word. "You want meeee."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Actually Spike, I'm a burgeoning pyromaniac. I just can't resist those hot, sexy landfills just waiting to be set on fire. Why else do you think I blew up my old high school?"

Encouraged, Spike caught up with her and grabbed her arm. "I knew it was only a matter of time."

"Before what, I set fire to UC Sunnydale?"

Spike, losing patience with Buffy's evasiveness, responded by pulling her body closer to his own. "Before this."

Buffy's breathing became shallow and her heart began thumping in her chest. This was what she came for, wasn't it? To play a round of hit the Spike and then pump up the sexual tension? Buffy didn't know what she wanted anymore. But she wanted him didn't she? _Don't I? He's the only one who gets it. Who'll have me. But you hate him. Shut up! _All of the voices in Buffy's head were conflicting each other. And she hated everyone for it. She hated Spike for making this so hard for her, her friends for not understanding anything and most of all herself. _This is wrong. So wrong. Remember when everything was so simple? When Spike was evil and you fought evil? _Buffy paused, looking into Spike's eyes, which were filled with longing. _Maybe I want to be wrong._

Buffy leaned in, letting Spike kiss her. She tried to get caught up in Spike's passion. Spike, who didn't seem to care that they were standing in front of her neighbor's house, probably breaking all sorts of indecency laws. But despite Spike's obvious skill and lust for her, she became suddenly and ridiculously focused on his lack of body heat. _He's cold. _His hands slid down her lower back. _But he wants me. _

Spike guided her backwards until she was against a hedge, never breaking contact once. Buffy just tried to feel as leaves became tangled in her hair and Spike's body pressed against her. _This is what you want. This is what you deserve. Nobody else could ever make you feel so good and so revolting all at once. _She let out a groan, which Spike misinterpreted as pleasure, becoming more urgent with his attentions. A small voice suddenly popped into her head. _You don't have to, you know. Spike isn't the only one who could make you feel good. You don't need to be punished. _As obvious as this thought was, it had never struck Buffy before. That maybe she didn't need to punish herself. And that maybe by doing this thing…she was punishing Spike too.

Buffy broke contact with Spike and firmly took his hands off of her body, but holding onto them all the same. "I can't do this."

Spike looked worried. "Of course you can, you're no virgin." He had been trying to make a joke, but the look in Buffy's eyes made him realize that she was serious this time. She wasn't bluffing.

"No. I don't mean that I can't do it. I mean that I can't do this."

Spike thought about stalking off, but she was holding his hands, and her eyes were so bright with feeling. She had never been so gentle with him. _I guess that if this is a side effect of no sex, then I'm ok with it._

"I'm sorry. But this…this is killing me."

"Buffy…" He couldn't bear the thought that she had wanted him to hurt her. Her eyes were glistening with tears, and he could tell that she was about to walk away, he'd never have another chance. _Oh do it already! Give the girl a proper send off._

And then Spike did what was to Buffy, the most unimaginable thing. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. And then he said "good luck."

Buffy stood for a long time just looking at him, finally giving him a slow smile and turning back towards her house. She wondered if Spike realized how great the gift he'd just given to her was. _I think Spike just discovered what love **really **is._

Spike just stared after her as she walked away. _Oh sod, I need to go get drunk before I regret letting her go._

Buffy went back to the house and walked in, closing the door and sliding against it. Yes, she was aware that Harry was probably awake, and that he knew she couldn't possibly patrol that fast. But what did she care? A great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was free. Free to do anything that she pleased. Of course, she had always been free, she just hadn't realized it.

Buffy heard a rustling noise and noticed Harry get off of the couch. "Back from patrolling already?"

"Hmm? Yea, yea I am Harry." _Harry, Harry, Harry. From now on I'm going to use people's names when I talk to them. It sounds friendly. Can I be a friendly person? _This was strange. None of Buffy's other breakups had ever made her feel this happy. Mostly there was the rage. And the crying. And the one time when she sent her ex-boyfriend to hell.

_Wow, _Harry thought. _She's sure relaxed. I wonder if it's a post slayage thing. _

_I can be happy and interested in stuff _Buffy thought, delighted at the mere idea. _I'm going to start now. _

"Hey, Harry," she said casually. "You look like you can't sleep either. Earlier you were telling me about your friends. You told me all about your job, but you didn't really talk about them. If you want…we could, I don't know, talk?"

Harry was surprised that Buffy would want to know anything about him, but he could feel his heart go out to the hopeful, needy, _beautiful _gaze she was giving him. "Of course. I'd like to…talk."

For a while they just sat on the couch, unsure how to start. It wasn't even awkward, Buffy realized, just peaceful. She hadn't really paid much attention to her inadvertent guest. She had invited him to stay as a sort of hasty penance. _I sure like to punish myself._ But he wasn't really a punishment. He was a shy, polite British guy who just happened to be kind of cute. She snuck a glance at him. Unruly hair, glasses, human. He wasn't exactly her type. But she admitted that he was good looking. That is, if you were into that sort of thing.

Harry finally began. He hadn't really meant to tell her much. Maybe it was the dark house or the insomnia, or maybe Buffy, but soon he was spilling his life's story. Voldemort, his parents, living with the Dursleys, finding out about being a wizard, and all the things he had to face and friends who died. Buffy just listened. For once, she listened to someone else's sorrows and hardships. She would never have guessed that this guy had gone through so much.

When Harry began telling her about the prophecy, how he would either kill Voldemort, or Voldemort would kill him, Buffy made a sympathetic noise. "Those prophecies, they're real killers. The last time I got one of those was the first time I died. Which reminds me. You've been spilling your heart out, and I haven't told you anything about myself."

Harry looked embarrassed. "Well, Dawn kind of gave me a blow by blow."

Buffy tightened her fists in mock anger. "No, not Dawn! I'm sure she messed the whole story up. She didn't even see half of that stuff happen."

"Why don't you set the record straight, then," Harry said with a crooked smile.

"Oh, believe me, I will. But first, finish your story."

They continued that way, throughout the night, just talking. Neither could have imagined this connection. Both Harry and Buffy had been unsure of each other from the start.

They hadn't realized how good it felt, just letting it all out. Buffy found herself recounting the funniest and most triumphant moments of her life along with the scariest and least hopeful ones. _There are some things that you just can't tell your friends, _Buffy thought. _Some things, you can only tell a stranger. _

Haha, sorry if anyone didn't like the Spuffy stuff that this chapter focused a lot on. But this story for me is about Buffy coming to terms with herself, and I wouldn't have respected her or her relationship with Harry as much if she had just left Spike hanging and went back to ignoring/pounding him.


	6. Posthaste

Ahh, finally. It took way too long for me to get this chapter out. Consider it a Thanksgiving miracle.

* * *

**Posthaste **

Harry woke up on the Summers' couch in a good mood. He had finally begun to come to an understanding with Buffy. The faintest strains of sunlight filtered through the curtains and Harry got up and stretched. Thankfully his body hadn't rebelled against the cramped position he had spent the night in. After a minute, Harry realized that nobody else was up yet. The house was quiet except for the ticking of a clock somewhere. He headed towards the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of cereal with some trepidation. Nobody ever feels totally comfortable as a guest in somebody else's house. You're always tip-toeing around hoping not to break any taboos or family rules.

Harry finally sat down and sighed, taking out his writing materials and spreading them across the table. He was no longer an unwanted guest, but a friend. That's why he felt guiltier than he would have liked when he began writing to Hermione.

_Dear Hermione,_

_How's your post in Africa going? Making any headway with those shamans? Sunndyale is odd. I know that you were jealous about me getting assigned to the Hellmouth, but trust me there's something strange going on. I was supposedly briefed on all important information involving Sunnydale but the Ministry was definitely withholding some crucial stuff. But I can't figure out why._

_So I need to ask, have you ever heard of someone called the Slayer? Because I've met one. Buffy Summers. Actually, she invited me to stay at her place and I accepted. Don't get mad, she's great and she knows way more about Sunnydale than I do. She's like some sort of extreme evil fighter with a destiny. _

_Anyway, I'm sure that you're itching for something to research. I know I could use a second opinion._

_-Harry_

_PS. I MISS YOU!_

_PPS. I think that the locations of our postings are some sort of sign. Somebody up there wants us to get a tan!_

_PPPS. Pretend I didn't just say that._

Harry didn't receive a reply letter for a couple days. In that time, he began to get a feel of life in Sunnydale, and life in the Scooby Gang in particular. The first thing he learned was that there was always something happening. Mysteries and strange going-ons in Sunnydale were like school life at Hogwarts put into hyper-drive.

The Scoobies met every afternoon in a shop called the Magic Box to discuss new threats. Harry had mornings to himself. He spent the early hours helping Buffy make breakfast and take out the trash and midmorning writing Ministry reports on his progress. He wrote of vampire activity, otherworldly presences, Willy's, a demon bar, and everything else he could find. He never mentioned the Slayer though, and her group of friends. He still wasn't sure that he could trust the Ministry when it came to this issue.

The Ministry issue wasn't the only thing that was making Harry uneasy though during those couple days. He barely admitted it to himself, but Willow made him uncomfortable. He couldn't quite put a finger on it. She was nice to him and always made sure that he was included, against Xander's protests. She was extremely interested in the magical community and constantly questioned Harry about Hogwarts and the type of magic he had learned. She was especially interested by the idea of wand magic and constantly compared it to her own earth magic, analyzing the pros and cons of each one.

Harry might have felt the undercurrent all along without really noticing. But after a particular incident, he couldn't help but feel nervous around Willow. One night while preparing a group dinner, Anya had gotten too enthusiastic with a knife as she chopped vegetables, leaving Willow's hand a bloody mess. Reacting to the sudden pain, Willow's temper had flared and she told Anya in a low, dangerous voice "watch. Where. You. Put. That. KNIFE."

Harry would have thought nothing of it if he hadn't seen Willow's eyes. They had flashed a darker, almost black color for a split second. He was suddenly hit with a bright, almost blinding sensation. Pure power, as he had never felt before.

And after that, Harry could never look at sweet, shy Willow the same way again. He had felt, only for a second, a true, violent, beautiful and terrifying power that he had never seen the likes of before. Not in Dumbledore, maybe not even in Voldemort.

For the rest of the evening, Harry couldn't help but steal sidelong glances at the seemingly placid redhead. She seemed fine, happy even as she chatted with Buffy or ruffled Dawn's hair. But now Harry could see underneath the edges, the turmoil inside her. He wondered how she was able to control it. Harry felt his throat tighten. He wondered how anyone would be able to control it if she couldn't.

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_I've been forced to send this letter by regular old owl mail so I'm sure that you will get it several days late. Thankfully I'll soon be able to send you letters instantaneously through the system that the Shamans are setting up. Back to business._

_Sometimes I don't know what to do with you. I can't believe this! Taking up with some stranger on the Hellmouth. The Hellmouth of all places! I ask you Harry, when are you going to start using your head? I'm glad at least that you wrote for my opinion. _

_The Slayer is an extremely dangerous magical creature. She is gifted with superhuman strength, heightened senses and an instinct to kill. She is always a muggle, one girl in all the world chosen to fight the forces of evil. (Of course she isn't as alone as she thinks. I mean, there have been aurors and other members of the wizarding community fighting evil for centuries.)_

_Harry, promise me that you'll get out of that house as quickly as possible. I've discovered through my research that the Watchers Council (and by extension, the Slayer) have a longstanding feud with the wizarding world. Slayers are never witches. In fact, they are taught to hate magic and those who practice it from a very early age, when they are only potentials. _

_Slayers have been known to not differentiate between demons and sorcerers. The Watchers' policies on killing humans do not seem to extend to wizards. It seems that the simmering hatred between the Council (which is based in Britain) and the Ministry of Magic exploded in 1453, when the Slayer Catherine Shepard massacred a coven of witches. The Watchers Council later raided and executed a number of wizarding families. Ever since then, the rift between the world of the Slayer and us wizards has grown. At present, a sort of cease fire agreement has been reached. Still, I cannot impress upon you enough the danger of your situation. Promise me Harry that you will not do anything rash._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_PS. I miss you too!_

_PPS. How can you think about tans at a time like this?_

_PPPS. Gladly._

Harry didn't panic as he read the letter. How many times had Hermione tried to "impress upon" him the danger of every situation they had ever faced. The letter might have scared him once upon a time, but after getting to know Buffy, he couldn't believe that these "slayer guidelines" applied to her. Anyway, he knew that Buffy didn't work for the Council anymore. She hung out in a magic shop everyday, for God's sake. Plus, her best friend was a witch. He remembered suddenly Willow's staggering power. Buffy didn't seem to notice her friend's volatile power, but if she did, Harry believed that she'd be much more concerned with helping her than killing her. Harry knew that Buffy wasn't the problem. There was somebody in the Ministry or somewhere else that was trying to set him up for a fall. But what kind of fall and more importantly why?

Harry smiled. It had been a long time since Hermione had been able to properly scold or warn him. Of course she was always scolding Ron and him over minor things, but this was real. It felt almost like old times.

He quickly pulled out some parchment and a quill from his bag, preparing to send a note of explanation to Hermione. As he bent over the page, he leapt back in surprise. A knut-sized swirl of purple light had appeared suspended in the air directly in front of him. _A portal_ he realized, scrambling backwards. The portal slowly widened, crackling with energy and emitting the sound of a high wind. With a squawk, a ball of feathers shot out of the swirling mass directly into Harry. Harry observed it with interest, quickly realizing that it was a rather shell-shocked and ruffled owl with a letter attached to its leg. _Oh_, Harry thought, Hermione's comments finally dawning on him. _This was the system that the Shamans were setting up. _Harry undid the letter, grinning as he realized that the ink wasn't even dry yet. Hermione must have found out some more information during the two day period it had taken Harry to get her last letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I checked all the records again and again. This Buffy Summers was a troubling case. All previous slayers have had very detailed Watchers diaries and other firsthand accounts. I spent hours scouring books in the district library (which I was assured is quite comprehensive) and I barely had five pages of records to show for it. Her Watcher diaries weren't even on record. It's almost as if she didn't exist. _

_At first I thought that maybe the girl you met wasn't really the slayer or that Buffy Summers was an alias. But after muttering something to the head shaman about the elusive Buffy Summers, I finally made some progress. When I said that name, a hush went across the room before the shamans broke out in cheers. People started yelling "God praise!" and "the chosen!" Imagine! I spent all that time on work and research when all I needed to do was ask one of my coworkers. _

_The head Shaman explained to me that Buffy is one of the most revered and longest living slayers in history. She has averted nearly a dozen apocalypses and apparently once saved the lives of the visiting shamans. They also explained the aspect of Buffy Summers that I found most troubling. Why is she not on record? It seems that Buffy was never brought up and trained as other potentials are. She slipped through the cracks and was not found until she was called. The Shaman also told some ridiculous story about her death being prophesied in the Codex. According to him, she actually did die a couple years back while fighting a master vampire and angels themselves came down to bring her back to life. And another slayer is in existence! Hmmph. Utter rubbish in my opinion. After hearing this from the Shaman, I asked around. This Buffy has been immortalized. She's a cult figure, a god even to them! I can't believe half of what I'm told; none of them actually know her. They've simply built up legends around her. Let's just say that I'd trust whatever Rita Skeeter wrote about you more than most of the tales of Buffy Summers that I've been hearing. A rather disheveled Cor'Tahk demon fed me another crackpot story. According to him, the Slayer is nothing more than a robot. Another source told me that she had been in a relationship with Angelus, master vampire and Scourge of Europe!_

_One thing is for sure. Buffy Summers did indeed break with the Watchers Council at one point in time. The lack of official records may be simple embarrassment on the Council's part. It would not do well for them to spread the fact that one of the most successful slayers in history had disowned the Council. No diaries are on record because Buffy's watcher was entirely loyal to his slayer, not the Council. Along with a rebellious streak, the current Slayer doesn't seem to share the watchers' ideology. Some accounts imply that several of her supporters were powerful witches. And saving a group of shamans isn't something that most magic-haters would do. _

_I'm not so sure what to tell you, Harry. The more I learn of the current Slayer, the more confusing the situation gets. I can't figure out what the motive of the Ministry is though. Were they trying to set you up for disaster or were they actually incompetent enough not to know that an active slayer was guarding the Hellmouth? Whichever one it is, I wonder whether they actually took Buffy Summers into account. She is not a tool of the Council but a free agent. And you seem to have recruited each other in the fight against evil. The question I ask now is was this planned? _

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry couldn't help but laugh after reading Hermione's letter. She had hit the books and no doubt beat up a lot of demons to find this information out, most of which she believed was false anyway. Harry had simply sat back and listened. Hermione always had to do things the hard way.

He wouldn't have believed half the stories himself had he not heard some of them from Buffy's own lips. There had been a robot, a vampire boyfriend and another slayer. Boy would Hermione be excited (or perhaps annoyed) to hear this! He finally set to scribbling a reply to his best friend.

Still, something ominous hung in the air. There was something wrong about this whole situation, something too simple or maybe too convoluted to be understood. Harry couldn't tell anymore. _Something's rotten in the town of Sunnydale. _

* * *

Hooray for exposition chapters that set up possible conspiracies! Review please!


	7. Open to Interpretation

I guess I'll just repeat the whole "don't sue" thing and note that this chapter contains dialogue from the Buffy episode "Fool For Love."

Also, thank you to all my reviewers! Hope this chapter is up to specs.

Harry Foureyes- Thanks. I've always wondered why there weren't more Buffy/Harry fics too. I think they are two fascinating characters to put together while Buffy/Draco tends to seem like Spike: The Sequel. (And I'd much rather have the original myself).

* * *

**Open to Interpretation**

_Buffy stood over Harry as he sat on his makeshift bed, watching him impassively. "You know you don't belong here, right?"_

"_Yeah. I guess" Harry answered noncommittally._

_She laughed. "But that'd never stop you." She looked out the window. Sunlight streamed through the curtains. "It's getting dark."_

"_Really?" Harry questioned, seeing the bright sunlight yet believing her anyway._

_Buffy smiled sadly. "It's always dark."_

"_But what about them?" Harry questioned suddenly. Willow, Anya, Xander and Dawn had walked into the living room. The four of them were laughing and talking animatedly, not noticing either Harry or Buffy. _

_Buffy glanced their way, and Harry suddenly noticed that each laughing friend had blood running down their faces, their hands and their clothes. It didn't seem to affect any of them though and they continued laughing and gesturing wildly. "Harry, they're not even there."_

"_But…" Harry trailed off, realizing that he no longer even felt like arguing. He turned. Buffy was now sitting on the couch next to him. She hummed brightly as she undid the ribbon on a brightly wrapped package. "I love pressies!" she told him with an air of confidentiality._

"_What did you get?" Harry asked, leaning closer and suddenly excited to see what had been given to the slayer._

_Buffy continued humming as she patiently unwrapped the present. "Drawing it out only makes the surprise better" she told him, winking._

"_Who's it from?" Harry asked._

_Buffy wrinkled her nose. "I don't know. I never thought to ask." She paused, thinking for a minute. "Everyone I guess. Or maybe me. Maybe I got it a while ago and saved it." She turned excitedly towards Harry. "But I don't remember what I got. I bet Giles and Willow and Xander and Mom got it for me. And maybe Angel" she said dreamily. "It must be my birthday." She was still patiently taking off the wrapping and then folding it gently and setting it on the table. Finally a closed box sat on her lap._

"_Gonna open it?" Harry asked gently._

"_Just savoring the moment" Buffy informed him. She shook the box and Harry heard something heavy bang against the side. "Hmmm. I don't feel like guessing." Buffy shrugged and removed the lid from the box, an expectant smile upon her face._

_Harry peered into the box excitedly. But it was empty. "Where'd it go?" Harry asked, a little upset. "It was just in there!"_

_Buffy donned the all too familiar sad smile again. "Told you it was a surprise." But she didn't look surprised. She looked as if she had expected this all along._

* * *

Harry awoke feeling groggy. As the Summers' living room came into focus around him, he began to recall a strange dream. He could tell that it wasn't just an ordinary dream. Besides, Harry's dreams were rarely ordinary. But it wasn't like his connection with Voldemort. It was different, yet it had felt real. Harry bolted up as he realized that the experience was slowly drifting out of his mind. He grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote "_Someone covered in blood? Sitting with Buffy. Why is the gift empty?"_

* * *

Harry walked into the kitchen smelling pancakes sizzling on the stove. Buffy was dutifully flipping them although her mind seemed to be somewhere else.

"Buffy these pancakes seem kind of wonky" Dawn noted. Her eyes seemed to cloud over a bit. "I wish Tara was here."

"Of course I'll meet you after school today" Buffy answered dully, continuing the pancake flipping.

Dawn looked worried for a second before rolling her eyes. "Fine, whatever" she said setting her empty plate on the counter with a clatter. "I've got to go."

Harry eyed the exchange with a growing sense of sadness. It hadn't taken long to realize that the Scoobies were putting up a happy front for his benefit and that the act had slowly been slipping away. _Maybe not my benefit, _Harry wondered idly. _Maybe their own. _

Most of all, Harry couldn't stand the empty look in Buffy's eyes. He wished that she looked lost, because that meant he could find her. But lately she looked as if she wasn't even there.

He had hoped that they'd reached an understanding after that late night talk. After all, they had a lot in common. He recalled the funny stories—the time that some demons took away everyone's voices and another time when she gained "an aspect of the demon." She told him about how unsure she had felt about various battles and how she was so sure that she'd lose. Harry couldn't believe how open Buffy had been with him.

But he should have noticed it, even with the late night-early morning delirium setting in. There were times in the story when Buffy paused before going forward with what seemed like a party line: "I died to stop Glory. I was in Hell. My friends pulled me out." Harry could have attributed the haunted look in her eyes to being through hell. After all, Sirius had had a similar look in his eyes when he first escaped from Azkaban. But the way she was acting now, the way she was pushing her friends away made Harry think that the here and now were hell to her. The things she had said the day he first saw her were incongruous to these parts of the story.

"_The real Buffy is gone. She died. All I am is an empty shell. A dead thing."_

Harry remembered suddenly the things that Buffy had said when she thought he was a watcher. Her eyes were feverishly bright, her face twisted into a harsh grin. _"What does Travers want to know now? How I died? How I clawed my way out of my own grave? Or is that too unseemly? Does he wanna know how Willow did it? Does he want to know if I came back wrong? If I did, does he actually think that he could kill me?" _

His mind snagged on one line that he had been too fearful to process at the time.

_How I clawed my way out of my own grave? _

Harry blanched, staring again at Buffy with new understanding. She was now staring intensely at a sizzling pancake, way past overdue to be flipped. Buffy seemed mesmerized at the popping, burning, boiling mess, the spatula cocked slightly in her hands.

"Here, let me help you with that!" Harry yelled suddenly, scrambling out of his seat. He was trying not to picture Buffy alone and scared as she punched ragged holes through the top of her coffin.

Buffy started briefly before regarding Harry with cool curiosity. "Afraid I'm gonna burn the house down?" she asked.

Harry stared a little helplessly into her eyes, finding himself unable to form words. He desperately tried to plumb the depths of her hazel eyes, try to understand what she must have gone through. How could he have been so stupid? Not putting together everything Buffy had said.

Buffy gave him a concerned look. "Are you ok?" She waited a beat, but an answer never came. "Oh wow, I have something on my face, don't I?" Buffy asked amusedly.

Harry snapped back to Earth. "Mmgh, oh God, of course not."

Buffy laughed lightly. "Then why were you…" She turned back to the stove with a squeak as she realized that the pancake was smoking. "Oh God!" she cried. "You were right the first time. I am gonna burn the house down!"

That possibility finally spurred the two to action, as they rushed to control the damages. Somewhere in the distance, a smoke alarm was going off.

A little while later, the two stood side by side as they attempted to scrape the charred and misshapen pancake out of the pan. They stood in companionable silence, a situation that Harry had interpreted as awkward with any girl other than Hermione. Well, actually silence would have been awkward with Hermione too. She always had something to say. He wanted to talk to Buffy, hear her laugh. It should have been easy.

_Think Harry, think. _He was trying to think of a conversation starter so hard, that he hadn't even realized what had slipped out of his mouth. "What is your gift?"

Buffy's reaction was instant. She no longer stared out the window over the sink. She momentarily turned a shade paler and her lips compressed. But her features slackened again as quickly as they had changed. "My gift?" Buffy asked carefully.

Harry instantly turned an alarming shade of red. "Did I say 'gift?'" he tried to backtrack. "Because I definitely didn't mean to say gift."

"Well good" Buffy said, scouring the pan rather violently. "Because I'm giftless. That's right, no gifts here. I'm a Buffy of the non-gift variety."

_The dream actually meant something _Harry realized.

The pair fell into silence once again, each lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

"_Are you ready?" Buffy asked Harry, prodding him with the stake in her hand._

"_I'm coming" Harry groaned, tossing and turning under the covers._

"_Well good" Buffy stated grumpily. "Because I'm not really in the mood to play spirit guide." She surveyed her surroundings with disgust. "Especially in this dump."_

_Harry sat up boltright. He was in his old cupboard, the one that the Dursleys had made him live in before he found out about being a wizard._

"_But this is where I belong!" Harry protested._

_Buffy sneered. If _this _is where you belong, then I don't really think you belong with me._

"_But—But it's comfortable here" Harry protested weakly. "Free spiders."_

_Buffy nodded solemnly, accepting his answer. "But comfort is for fools. Or people who aren't us. Come on."_

"_Where are we going?" Harry asked._

_Buffy peered back at him over her shoulder. "If you have to ask, you'll never know."_

_Harry hung back tentatively before grabbing her proffered hand. She pulled him up and suddenly the tableau had changed. The sky was a dark blue, but lit up by a blinding purple-white light in the distance. He looked down and noticed that his feet weren't on the ground. He was standing atop a shoddily constructed tower raising hundreds of feet in the air. They were standing at the beginning of what seemed to be a plank towards the bright light, a plank that seemed to go on for miles without ending._

"_Where are we?" Harry asked, slightly dizzy._

_Buffy pulled a face. "Do you realize how many questions you ask? I don't have all of your answers. Plus, this is your mind anyway. How am I supposed to know what's going on?"_

"_Well you just seem to…know. About stuff" Harry supplied._

"_Sure, I know about lots of stuff" Buffy agreed. "I know how to shop, how to decapitate a vampire with an exacto knife. I know how to alphabetize a filing cabinet. I hung out in the school library a lot" she whispered the last part before giggling, as if to say "shh! Don't tell." "I know more than they give me credit for." She turned a sharp eye on Harry. "But what I know is not the point."_

_Harry tried to think of something to say that wasn't a question. He settled on "Stop speaking in bloody symbols!"_

_Buffy just laughed. "Whatever you say, Giles Junior. Come on. We've been standing here way too long. Standing around never got one anybody a gold star."_

"_This looks dangerous" Harry noted hesitantly. They had been walking down the path that lead to the bright light. The farther they walked, the higher up they seemed. The steel underneath his feet was beginning to squeal threateningly._

"_Of course it is!" Buffy said cheerfully. "Do you think that a friggin skyscraper would have been as symbolic?"_

"_I guess not" Harry answered, unconvinced. "I just don't think that it is a very good idea."_

_Buffy paused suddenly. "Yeah, I guess you're right for once, Jeeves. You've got your whole life ahead of you. Walking here with me is only going to slow you down."_

"_No, no" Harry rebutted. "I like walking with you, you're good company. I just wonder if you know what you're doing."_

"_Of course I do" she said, puffing out her chest. "I already told you that I know more than they think. So I'm not book girl, I'll deal. But my gift is over there, and I want to get it back." _

"_Your gift!" he said excitedly. "I wanted to see it."_

"_It's close, we're getting closer" Buffy told him._

_The two broke out into a full run, trying to reach the end of the plank as quickly as possible. They finally reached the landing, where Buffy stood basking in the unearthly light. Harry stood behind her, still winded from the run._

"_Here" Buffy said turning to him as she began to empty her pockets. "Keep this safe." She began unloading a large amount of knick knacks into Harry's hands, including an elaborately carved knife._

"_I don't know what to do with this stuff."_

"_You'll figure it out" she reasoned. _

"_Where's your present? I want to see it."_

"_Oh" Buffy said, turning. "Thanks." A blissful smile filled her face._

_Harry stared in horror down at her abdomen. The knife she had given him earlier had been run through her middle. Blood quickly seeped through the fabric of her white shirt. "Thanks" she told him lazily once again._

_Harry began shaking uncontrollably. "But I didn't—no—I didn't…" He stared down and gasped. His hand was now firmly attached to the knife in question and he gave it an upward jerk before pulling it out with a sucking sound. The dagger clattered to the ground as Harry stared at his blood-soaked hands._

_Buffy looked down at her abdomen with interest, holding her own blood-stained hands to view. She looked into Harry's eyes again, which were filled with disbelief, horror, and maybe a little understanding. "Told you it was a surprise." With one last parting gaze, Buffy tumbled off the edge of the tower, pulled away from Harry simultaneously by the bright portal and the surrounding night._

"_No! No!" Harry cried as he stumbled toward the edge and hunkered down. Salty tears streamed down his face. Buffy was gone. And then, everything went black._

Harry woke on the familiar couch in a cold sweat. As his eyes focused on the surrounding darkness, he realized that he was not alone. A very real Buffy was standing at the foot of the couch with her arms folded. Her face displayed a mix of confusion, anger and a little fear. "Okay" she said, stepping forward threateningly. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

_Buffy. She's alive. _God, he'd never been happier in his entire existence, as traitorous and surprising as the thought was. Everything from that dream was still imprinted in his mind's eye and—and—a horrible gasp ripped through Harry's throat. The words spilled out without his consent, as he leveled a disbelieving look on Buffy's angry visage. "You wanted it."

She blinked, and Harry could see understanding and self loathing simultaneously etched onto Buffy's face. With a snarl, she was upon him, slamming her fists ineffectively against Harry's chest, her body wracked with sobs. _I could kill him. Pound him into bits, leave nothing but bruised and bloody flesh. I'm gonna. I'm gonna. I'd do it just to make him shut up. _"Take it back! Take it back!" she cried like a child. He had said everything and nothing all at once. Summed up her entire existence. Her purpose.

Spike had been the only one to truly understand. He'd explained to her that night in the alley behind The Bronze. And she had almost killed him then. For knowing. For understanding the dance.

"_Death is on your heels baby, and sooner or later, it's going to catch you . . . And some part of you wants it. Not only to stop the fear and the uncertainty, but because you're just a little bit in love with it._ _Death is your art. You make it with you hands, day after day. That final gasp, that look of peace . . . Part of you is desperate to know . . . What's it like? Where does it lead you? . . . So you see, that's the secret. Not the punch she didn't throw or the kick she didn't land. She simply wanted it. Every Slayer has a death wish."_

Buffy wondered though if Spike had ever admitted to himself what had made her jump off of that tower. Spike with his cocky life lessons. Spike, who she had been told cried at the sight of her lifeless body. No, she decided. Not even Spike, the one who had spelled out the slayer's desires in such simple terms, understood what had happened. Maybe Dawn. Maybe Dawn.

No, none of them had understood. They thought it was all about heaven and hell, which one, which one? As if it mattered. They didn't really know why she felt so dirty and wrong. Why she didn't deserve to be here.

It was because she had chosen death, wanted it even. And she liked it.

So that was Buffy the great hero's sacrifice. Death. She had wrapped it up in pretty bows, pretended that this was all about saving Dawn. But hadn't it been about freeing herself?

Harry's eyes widened as the slayer's blows rained down upon him. They were nothing, not the brutal punches that he'd seen her land before. His heart clenched as she began sobbing. "Take it back! Take it back!" How he wished that he could.

"That's me, the hero" she said as ragged sobs tore through her body. Abandoning them all because she was offered a chance at peace. She finally understood. She had thought her friends cowards for ripping her out of heaven. But they had been no less selfish than she had been. What made them resurrect her? God, she had saved this world a dozen times over and she still didn't feel that she deserved to be here.

"What do you think of me now, Harry?" she cried. "Still want to get to know your gracious hostess?" Her punches were now just pretenses, a mere excuse to keep screaming her latest epiphany. She had hid from telling her friends anything for so long and now that she was finally letting it all out, dammit somebody was gonna listen!

"Tell me, what do you think of me?" With that, Buffy collapsed against his chest, shaking as her breath hitched.

Harry said nothing. He just stroked her back as Buffy's breath slowly evened out. Surprisingly, or maybe unsurprisingly, Buffy fell asleep quickly in Harry's arms. He marveled at what had just unfolded. This beautiful, brave, caring girl actually thought that she was some sort of monster. He stroked her hair as a feeling of wonder settled over him. Buffy Summers might not know it yet, but she deserved to feel alive more than anybody in the world.

* * *

Wow, ok. That chapter came out nothing like I thought it would, but I was pleasantly surprised to say the least. Just to clear things up, Buffy was having the same dreams as Harry, and somehow believed them to be prophetic. That's why she came downstairs to get answers. The reason for the joint dreams will be explained in the next chapter. The dream scenes contained a lot of the "Restless"-like subtext/symbolism that I wanted to express about Buffy's death and her feelings on it. Hopefully nobody felt like they were running away from falling anvils as they read it. Also, if on the flipside, you thought that the dream sequences made not a wit of sense, just ask me and I'll be happy to tell you my interpretation.

I had been planning to leave this chapter at when Harry wakes up and sees angry Buffy, but I'm glad that I didn't. I hadn't planned the breakdown at all, but I'm glad that it kind of flowed out of my system. Buffy needed to let it out and I didn't want her to be detachment girl the whole fic. Buffy's breakdown was partly inspired by Buffy's confession to Tara at the end of "Dead Things" and a bit of Faith and Angel's fight at the end of "Five by Five." In a way, I also saw it as a sort of counterpoint to Buffy's beating of Spike in "Dead Things."

Next up: Buffy and Harry are going to start to come to an understanding and maybe Buffy will even begin her reconciliation with friends and family.

Ok, so tell me what you thought!


	8. Breathe in, Breathe out

**A/N**: I apologize x 238749875 for the delays. But I really didn't want to fail my exams, which could have happened if I hadn't spent every free minute studying. Hopefully I am can be forgiven and you guys will keep reading and leaving your wonderfully encouraging reviews.

Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter. But now, onward!

* * *

**Breathe in, Breathe out**

Buffy woke with a start and rolled off the couch with a squeak. What was she doing on top of her houseguest all night? She sincerely hoped that no one else had woken up and seen her and Harry snuggling together. Thankfully the house seemed quiet, and even better, Harry hadn't stirred. Buffy let out a relieved breath.

That was, until she remembered last night's occurrences. Buffy scowled down upon Harry. His face was serene and he had an almost goofy smile on his lips. How dare he share her dreams? Accuse her of things he couldn't understand? Her anger mounted as prickles of shame crept up the back of her neck. She had let him see it. The truth. She ground her teeth and strode back to her room in frustration. She had behaved disgustingly. Like a baby, like an animal. Like somebody weak. Buffy slammed her bedroom door behind her, embarrassment and anger enflamed her senses. She promised to never let her guard down again. Least of all to the British invasion.

* * *

When Harry awoke, his chest felt curiously light. He rolled over and grabbed his glasses from the end table. Buffy was gone.

Hadn't it just been moments ago when she had flown at him in a rage, loathing and understanding in her eyes, a primal fury ripping through her being? And hadn't he soothed her to sleep? But now she was gone and Harry wasn't sure what to expect. Certainly not a note. He was a guest in her house, not a jilted one night stand.

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose pensively. He had never been closer to figuring out the enigma that is Buffy than last night. But for some reason all he could think about was how empty he suddenly felt without her warm body next to his. He groaned. Hermione had been right. It was stupid of him to come live at Buffy's. Because now he cared. All he wanted to do was help this silly, angry, terribly misunderstood slayer who probably wanted nothing to do with him. He didn't care about the Ministry or the stupid mission statement. He cared about her.

_Look at what I've gotten myself into._

* * *

It was a couple of hours before the house was busy again. Willow and Dawn were up making breakfast and Xander had just arrived. Anya was jealously guarding the Magic Box cash register. Buffy got ready as slowly as possible, weighing the pros and cons of pairing her Seven jeans and her black top. Finally, admitting to herself that she didn't much care, Buffy trudged downstairs and steeled herself. Facing Harry was the last thing she wanted to do after last night.

_One, two, three. One, two, three. _Buffy counted each stair as she passed over it. She could hear Dawn and Harry laughing together downstairs and cringed. She had a feeling that all the friendly chit-chat downstairs would stop once the designated crazy girl showed up. She knew that she would receive a fearful look from Harry or maybe no look at all. Perhaps he would avoid her eyes. Buffy didn't know why, but she found this thought distinctly upsetting.

One. Two. Three. She was standing on threshold of the kitchen. And on cue—

"Hey, Buffy" Harry said nonchalantly, as he levitated a cat figurine for Dawn's amusement. He looked up at her and smiled hesitantly. "I didn't know where you had gone."

Buffy reddened slightly, but didn't respond. _Oh, so he was gonna play that card, was he? _Although she was silently thankful that Harry wasn't acting twitchy or nervous around her, she now found herself annoyed that he was acting so blasé about the whole thing. _Well, two can play at that game._

Wanting to shock everyone in the room, Buffy randomly blurted out the first thing that popped into her head. "Bye everyone. Sorry, can't stay. I was actually on my way to go make out with Spike in his nicely kept crypt." Buffy spun on her heel and proceeded to walk out of the house. She couldn't help but smirk. When she got home, there would be some majorly pissed off and confused Scoobies to deal with.

By the time she was halfway down the sidewalk, Buffy realized how stupid and badly thought out her "plan" was. Or course, she wasn't actually going to go make out with Spike. So instead she decided to take a stroll through one of Sunnydale's few parks. It was pretty, she decided. Buffy wondered why she couldn't do things like this more often. She had felt alone almost all of the time since being resurrected, but today she felt alone in a good way.

Slowly, Buffy lowered herself onto the grass and lay contentedly as the sun warmed her skin. She let all of her earlier thoughts leave her brain for the time being. Right now, she was just a girl. A girl lying in the park on a sunny day.

* * *

Xander, Willow, Dawn and Harry all stood as if stunned. "About time" Dawn snickered. "She's finally bringing it into the open."

Xander fiddled nervously with his hands. "She was joking, right? Buffy was just playing a big, funny joke on us. She'll be back any moment now!"

"Oh my God!" Willow cried out. "Something cursed Buffy! It's like that time with the my-will-be-done spell! Buffy and Spike are gonna get married and it'll be all my fault."

Harry stared at the floor, slightly angry and confused. So, she would rather go make out with the vampire she hated than talk to him. Wasn't that just classic? Harry was caught between keeping mum and telling the Scoobies that Buffy and Spike had a history that they apparently didn't know about. But he decided that that would be childish. Buffy was a grown woman who could do what she wanted. Even if that included snogging good looking, dangerous vampires who wore cool leather coats…" _Get a grip, Harry._

"Ok, we need to go find Buffy. Xander and I will go to Spike's crypt since she explicitly stated that she was going there. Harry, maybe you can do a locating spell in case she isn't really there. And Dawn…you just hang out, ok?"

Dawn glared. "I don't get what the big deal is. Why can't she just do what she wants? If she wants to boink Spike, why can't she just boink Spike?" Dawn stomped off in the direction of the stairs.

Xander stared at her open-mouthed. "Did Dawnie just…"

"Yeah, she just said that" Willow said briskly. "Now let's get a move on this before we're too late." Willow and Xander walked out the front door leaving Harry alone in the kitchen. Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dawn's straightforward attitude about the whole thing, but he sobered instantly when he remembered his job. As he laid out a clean sheet of parchment and uttered an incantation, Harry mentally prepared himself for seeing Buffy's named entwined with Spike's in the North graveyard.

He looked down at the parchment, surprised. Spidery handwriting scrawled across the formerly empty parchment, creating a detailed map of Sunnydale. Harry had isolated the elements of the spell so that only his location, the Scoobies, Buffy and Spike would show up on the map. Spike was alone in his crypt, with Xander and Willow rapidly approaching. And Buffy…? Harry quickly scanned the map. She was in a park halfway across town. A weight seemed to disappear from Harry's chest, and he grabbed the map, running out the door.

A couple minutes later, Dawn came down the stairs. "Hey, Harry, wanna grab some Ben & Jerry's from the fridge with me?" The downstairs rooms were empty. Dawn scowled. "How typical."

* * *

Willow and Xander reached the door of Spike's crypt. "Do you think we should knock?" Willow asked.

"Yeah, let's knock so that the formerly murderous, bloodsucking fiend can hide the evidence of his crimes before answering the door."

"Ok" Willow said reluctantly. "So, can I knock the door down? Buffy told me that she used to do that all the time" Willow said excitedly.

"Be my guest" Xander answered.

"Yay!" Willow said, as her eyes began turning black and she gathered her magic from up inside her. Xander heard her utter a Latin phrase and then the crypt door was suddenly blown into smithereens.

Directly in front of the now demolished door sat Spike, blood in hand, watching his television. He looked up at his new arrivals. "Oi! Why'd you have to go do that, Red? Now all manners of nasties can just waltz right in here. While I'm watching _Passions_, and everything!"

Willow looked slightly abashed. "Sorry, Spike. I'll fix it on our way out. We just came to um…find Buffy."

"Well, the slayer isn't here, so you and the whelp can go elsewhere."

"Right…" said Willow uncertainly. "Well, if you see Buffy, could you tell her that we were looking for her and that it's urgent? And try not to make out with her, even if she is really, really insistent?"

"Don't think I can promise you any of that" Spike answered with a suggestive leer. Xander made his "I'm-about-to-be-sick face."

"Ah…alright, bye Spike" Willow said. "Don't mind us, I'm just gonna fix your door."

Spike gave Willow and ironic salute and ignored Xander completely. "Bye, Red. And if it isn't too much trouble, you could add some nice security features to that door…"

* * *

Buffy lay quietly on the ground with her eyes closed. She had a slight smile on her face and she could feel the sun beating down on her. In the distance, she could hear footsteps approaching. She chose not to stir, hoping that the visitor would just be passing by.

The footsteps kept coming closer and closer. Buffy decided to stay the course. A shadow fell over her face. Whoever it was was standing in front of her, blocking the sun. Buffy let out a long breath, irritation mounting. Like she needed some perv standing and staring at her.

Harry crouched hesitantly over Buffy's form. He leaned in a little closer and felt his stomach lurch. She was just lying there, looking like the most innocent girl in the world. And that smile. Harry suddenly had the urge to touch her face. He moved his hand forward, unable to stop it…

_Okay, now this is just getting creepy. The skeevster is just crouching over me, practically breathing down my neck, and he expects me not to notice?_ Her smile grew slightly more pronounced as she thought of what she'd do to the idiot if he came any closer._ Ahh, that's it_, she thought, as she felt a hand moving towards her face.

With a sudden lunge, Buffy caught the offending hand moments before it grazed her face. Snapping up, Buffy bashed her head against the idiot and flipped him over her shoulder, before rolling over and pinning him to the ground. She was all ready to start her speech about how it wasn't nice to play with sleeping girls when she noticed who was underneath her…

Harry was jolted out of his reverie when Buffy, eyes still closed, unexpectedly grabbed his hand and somehow bashed him around the head. His vision blackened around the edges and before he knew it, he was on his back, arms pinioned to his sides. His brain seemed to thump painfully inside his skull and when his vision finally cleared, he could see Buffy staring down at him…

Her first thoughts were along the lines of _huh…?...Harry!...OH MY GOD, HARRY! I'VE MORTALLY WOUNDED MY FAVORITE HOUSEGUEST! _Harry stared slightly bleary eyed back at her. "Guess I should have announced my presence" he joked weakly.

Buffy stared helplessly back at him before snapping back into action. "Oh God, I'm so, so, sorry. I can't believe I did that to you." Her anger over last night and this morning was momentarily forgotten. "I hope I didn't do too much damage. She smoothed his hair back from his forehead, checking to see if any bangs and bruises were visible.

Harry shivered involuntarily at her touch. Although he didn't enjoy being pounded into smithereens by pretty girls, he could definitely see the upside to this situation.

Realizing for the first time her proximity to Harry, Buffy abruptly got up and offered Harry a hand. "Come on. Let's get you home. And then we can pretend that I didn't just try to turn you into a piece of modern artwork." Harry laughed and took her hand. She dropped her shoulder, offering support that he didn't really need. _Oh, what the hell _he decided. Instead of leaning against the shoulder Buffy was offering, Harry simply wrapped his arm around her and they walked back towards her house.

"We have some things to talk about" Harry said.

Buffy didn't look at him but she muttered a response. "Count on it." They walked the rest of the way in silence, but Buffy didn't attempt to remove Harry's supportive arm.

They opened the door to find a worried looking Xander and Willow and a bored looking Dawn. "Oh, Buffy!" Willow yelled, running towards her and pulling her into a surprisingly strong hug.

"Woah there, Wills." Buffy was admittedly surprised by the gesture. They had all held themselves at arms length for a while now. She smiled, getting used to the old action, and hugged Willow back.

"So…that whole making out with Spike thing?" Dawn asked.

"It was a joke" Buffy admitted.

"Oh" Dawn said. "I guess he'll be disappointed."

"I guess" Buffy said distractedly.

"We kicked his door down" Willow offered helpfully.

Buffy looked at her with interest. "Really?"

"Yeah. We figured that Spike had found some sort of way to curse you into becoming his love slave. It was Scoobies to the rescue" Xander said.

"Oh" Buffy said, dropping her eyes.

"But it's all good now, right? See Willow, I told you that Buffy was just playing a big ol' joke on us. We know she wouldn't kiss Spike unless the world's fate depended on it…and maybe not even then."

"Yeah" Buffy answered wearily, her eyes still trained on the floor. "Look, guys…I'm gonna go…I haven't cleaned out my room in ages." She spread her arms in an expansive, "what can I say?" gesture. Harry's worried eyes followed her as she hurried up the stairs.

"What's wrong with her?" Willow asked.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "You're supposed to be the genius. Get a clue, already." She wasn't the oblivious, inexperienced teenager that they all thought she was. She could totally tell that Buffy was having a little thing with Spike. I mean, obviously they weren't just hanging out in that alleyway during the group sing. And Trisha apparently "like totally saw your sister making out with this hot Billy Idol type at The Bronze." Yeesh, that wasn't even being discrete. Not to mention all the pointless, extra "patrols" Buffy had been going on lately. Yeah, Dawn had a clue. But she was starting to wonder when everyone else would get one.

Harry's eyes were still trained on the stairs. "I'm going to go help her…clean her room." He began walking away.

Dawn suddenly felt the need to hand him a survival pack, hug him and send him off into the sunset or something. There was nothing but uphill battles for people who fell in love with Buffy…_woah, wait. Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself? _Dawn paused. _Nope, he's a goner._

* * *

Buffy had taken most of the clothes out of her closet, folding and sorting them in order to gain a sort of Zen-like peace. It wasn't working. And what's more, she was being confronted by the ghosts of wardrobes past. Buffy held up a jacket, her face scrunched with disgust. "Gold lamé? Oh, how tacky were you, Buffy?"

"I don't think you're tacky" Harry said, walking into her room with his hands in his pocket.

"Well then you obviously haven't seen me in this jacket" she answered, throwing it into the Goodwill pile.

"Buffy."

Her eyes flicked up towards him and her anger was evident. "Don't say my name like you know me. You don't. And whatever you think happened, didn't." She began stacking sweaters angrily. "In fact, last night didn't happen. Happy?"

"No" Harry said simply.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing that your happiness doesn't really matter to me at the moment. Why don't you go…watch some TV with Dawn? This discussion is over."

Harry grew bold. "No, it's not. We shared that dream for a reason. Something's wrong Buffy, and I want you to be able to tell me what."

Buffy turned away from him. "I don't need to tell you anything." She stopped for a moment, staring into nothingness. "I'm the slayer. I'm meant to be alone, you wouldn't understand…"

"I know that you weren't always alone. Before all of this you weren't just a slayer, you were a friend, a sister…So don't blame this on being the slayer."

"Like I said, you wouldn't understand. And I'm still all of those things" she added as an afterthought.

Harry strode over and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Because you won't let me understand. I thought we were getting along. I told you some stuff that I haven't told many other people. And you died…I know that isn't something that I've gone through, but if you think that you're the only one who's ever felt alone or wrong or scared, then you're..."

"I'm not scared!" she responded angrily. Her voice quieted and became stony. "I'm not."

"Then what are you?" he challenged.

"I'm nothing" Buffy blurted out. They looked at each other warily for over a minute.

"We're going to talk about last night" Harry said in a dangerous tone.

"No, we're gonna talk about how you're so overstepping your bounds right now."

Harry ignored that. "Why did you want it?"

"My fist is about to have a rendezvous with your face, you know that right?"

"I don't care!" Harry yelled. "Why did you want it?" He didn't care what she thought of him right now. He wanted the truth and he wanted her to admit the truth to herself too.

"I didn't want to die!" Buffy yelled back in response. "So you can just shut up and go away."

"Okay" Harry said, not moving.

"I didn't want to."

"Okay."

"I didn't ask for any of this."

Silence. "No one does."

"It's not my fault 'death is my gift.' I mean, talk about a crappy gift. I had to. Everybody knows that" she countered with an upraised chin.

"Everybody doesn't share dreams with you."

"Whoops. I guess the Powers that Be tuned it to the wrong frequency. You know, Spike doesn't ask me this many questions. He tried to kill me a lot, yeah, but he isn't _this_ annoying."

"Then why don't you go talk to Spike. I'm sure you'd be welcome in his 'nicely-kept crypt.'"

Buffy only glared. "I don't know why you shared my dream. But it really is none of your business." She paused, musing. "Even if it was being projected inside your sleeping brain against your will." _Okay, way to help his case. Just shut up, stream-of-consciousness babble, will you?_

"Explain this to me" Harry said angrily. "I want to understand this, all of this."

"Nobody wants their life to end!" Buffy cried furiously. "Wouldn't you do anything to save someone you loved? To save the world?" Buffy looked down at her hands, before continuing quietly. "Nobody wants to die. But for a moment, I gave up. I wanted it. And that's why it wasn't a sacrifice anymore. Once again, it was all about me and how I couldn't handle it. I could have gotten there sooner. I could have saved Dawn. But I didn't so that's it."

Harry said nothing.

"And then…then I was in heaven. And everything was beautiful and soft and it all made perfect sense. Time didn't exist. And then suddenly I wasn't in heaven anymore. So that's it. Is that what you wanted to know, Harry?" She was angry again.

Harry didn't respond. "Answer me!" Buffy commanded, throwing one of her old, hideous sweaters that she hadn't worn since high school at him.

"Yeah, that's all I wanted to know" he finally said quietly.

"Good. I need to finish sorting my clothes now, if you wouldn't mind leaving."

Harry hesitated, looking at her face, trying to figure her out. "Sure." He got up to leave and turned back one last time. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I really am."

"It's ok. Just…just—I need to do this." Harry left silently, clicking the door shut on his way out.

_One, two, three. One, two, three. _Buffy tried to count her shallow breaths. _Count them. Count them and it'll all be okay again. No, no, no!_ And amidst old high heels and discarded leather pants, Buffy did what she had not done since before she died the second time. She cried. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks. She cried for everyone she had ever known, for mom who was dead and could never come back. Giles in England, and maybe he was making new friends? Willow and Tara. Dawn who was alone too. Harry and his dead parents. Herself. Her body couldn't be silent. Gasping and hiccupping, she silenced herself with an old sweater. Hot tears mixed with warm wool and Buffy sat silently hugging the sweater against her face. _One, two, three. One, two, three. _

* * *

**A/N**: I know it's been a while, but if you read this chapter could you please **review**? I want to make sure that there are still people out there who care about/are reading this story. I'm sorry again for how long this update took. Expect the updates to come pretty quickly from now on.


	9. The Sky Hangs Low

**A/N**: Okay, I have no excuse this time except lack of inspiration. I really should stop making promises. So I won't make any promises for the next chapter. The next couple months will be quite busy. The teeny-tiny Watchers/Ministry subplot is pretty important to the outcome of the story and for such a simple little thing it's giving me a whole lot of trouble. Yeesh. Keep on keeping with the **reviewing**, guys! You've been keeping me going so far.

**Fun Fact**: When first posting this story, I didn't have a name for it. So on the spot, I just kinda thought 'what's the most fake-emo thing you can think of?' I still for the life of me can't remember the name of this story without logging in and clicking on 'stories.'

Hi ho Silver!

**

* * *

**

**The Sky Hangs Low**

The eerie and illuminated sky hung forebodingly outside as Dawn Summers pressed her nose against the glass of the living room window. Her breath left a perimeter of frosted glass behind and the almost imperceptible beads of condensation slid down the window. Small fingers of lightning flicked across the sky, leaving a ghostly grey-green atmosphere. A sudden growl of thunder shook the window panes and caused an uncomfortable vibration to go through Dawn's nose.

The youngest Summers jumped back and slumped on the couch. "It's pretty gross out there, Buffy. I think it's pretty safe to say no slaying for you tonight."

Buffy looked up from her cards to answer Dawn. "Somehow I don't think that 'grossness' is gonna stop fledglings from rising."

A howling wind ripped across the house and a draft settled around the card players. Buffy looked up from her hand. "On second thought…none of the locals are stupid enough to go out tonight. I mean…hello. As you said, grossness."

Xander laughed. "Our Buff, ever the wordsmith."

Harry looked up as Buffy slapped down a triumphant hand of cards. "I think the wordsmith just won the pot."

Buffy smugly gathered the stuff at the center of the coffee table in her hands. "Mine, all mine!"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Buffy. The loss of three stakes, a lame cloak thing and my lip gloss will haunt me forever."

"She's just jealous" Buffy told Harry and Xander sulkily. When Buffy wasn't looking, Dawn pocketed the lip gloss.

"Sooo…" Buffy said, picking up one of her winnings. "What's with the cloak, Harry?" She spread the silvery, almost fluid cloth on the table. "Quite the fashion statement. Don't know where I could wear it though."

Harry smiled. "Oh, I'm sure you could find a use for it. I've found it to be very helpful on occasion."

Buffy wrinkled her nose in slight confusion. "Whatever you say…" She stood up and threw the garment over her shoulders. "How do I look, guys?" she asked, striking a fake model pose.

Dawn squeaked and burrowed further into the couch. Xander just cried out in shock. "Holy heck, Buffy! You're a…head!"

"I'm a what?" Buffy asked, slightly irritated. She knew it wasn't the most fashionable thing in the world, but what in the world was _that _supposed to mean?

Dawn stammered slightly. "Where did—where did your body go?"

"Huh?" Buffy asked right back, before looking down. "What the fu…" She looked up accusingly. "Harry, your weird cloak thing made me see-through! What do you have to say for yourself?"

Harry answered sheepishly. "Um…an invisible slayer is a successful slayer?" With that, he jumped up and pulled the invisible corner of the cloak over Buffy's head, dashing off through the kitchen. The now completely invisible Buffy ran yelling after him.

Xander and Dawn looked towards each other thoughtfully. "Well…that was new."

* * *

Harry followed the sound of Buffy's running feet and shouted challenges throughout the house, bumping into her only when she stopped in front of a mirror. The chase ended with her running out the back door and onto the back porch. Buffy pulled the cloak off, her hair slightly disheveled and her eyes luminous. "That is so COOL" she told Harry decisively. 

He smiled back as they flopped on the bottom step. "Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction the first time I wore it."

Buffy's smile faltered slightly. "Harry…the rest of us put basic crap into that pot. This has to be extremely valuable. And damn handy, if I do say so myself. Why would you risk losing something this cool?"

Harry answered in a lofty tone of voice. "Because I never lose, Miss Summers."

Buffy snorted unbecomingly.

"And well…I've had it since I was eleven. It seemed time to pass it on. Xander, Dawn or you seem like you'd need it more than I will."

"I couldn't possibly take it" Buffy said, fingering the folds lovingly. "Okay, I definitely could and would take it, but you get what I'm trying to say…"

Harry rested on his elbows as he surveyed the ghostly sky. At least the wind had abated for a couple minutes. "I inherited that cloak from my dad. The headmaster at my school passed it down to me because he knew that I would have use for it. My school days are long over and I can perform a disillusionment charm on myself if necessary. But I want you to have it. You and the Scoobies will be able to make good use out of it."

Buffy's face softened. She knew about Harry's parents and how much he loved the mother and father who he could barely remember. Patting Harry on the shoulder, Buffy simply said "thank you."

Harry grinned. "Dawn wanted to make cookies a little while ago. She told me that Willow bakes a mean chocolate chip, too. How bout you take that thing for a spin and come back for some confectionary delights in a couple hours?"

"Confectionary delights? Wow, you _are _weird, Harry Potter." She flicked the cloak over her head and padded softly through the grass. She called out one last time. "Make 'em kinda mushy. They're better that way!"

* * *

Buffy stalked the silent streets of Sunnydale in her newest accessory. It was liberating to say the least. Not that there was anyone around to _not _see her. But still. The foreboding sky and the quiet air left her feeling restless and electrified. She wanted to run the length of main street and back. 

She started a sprint, passing by one of the many Sunnydale graveyards. Making a note to come back when the sun set, she passed, the tunnel of her vision filled with green and grey. Where was the wind? It had been howling minutes earlier. The resounding silence surrounded her,

Her sprinting had soon reached breakneck speed. The invisibility cloak billowed behind her. She could see blurs and bright flashes. She could feel nothing but her legs pounding the pavement of the street. Blood pumped loudly in Buffy's ears. _Blood. Because I'm alive. And people who aren't dead have it because it gives them life and keeps pumping and pumping and…it's always the blood._

After what seemed like hours, Buffy finally slowed down, her heart slamming against her chest. Night had descended by then but the quietude was as strong as ever. She doubled back, passing through several graveyards on the way. Nothing. _Hmm_, she thought to herself as she walked back towards Revello Drive, not knowing whether to feel content or disconcerted.

* * *

Buffy walked into the house and was assaulted by the smell and sight of baked goods. Tons of them, by the looks of it. The kitchen was filled with pans all bearing sugary goodness. Buffy was suddenly reminded of the aftermath of one of Willow's disastrous will-be-done spells. She called out worriedly. "Please tell me that no wacky spells were cast in my absence. Or that we're adopting, like, fifty orphans." 

Willow straightened up from behind the stove, taking off a ridiculous looking pair of oven mitts. "I don't see any orphans. Or wacky spells. But if you want, there could be wacky spells. I can work with that."

"No," Buffy answered, popping a cookie into her mouth. "I'd rather work with cookies."

"Harry and I are master bakers!" Dawn exclaimed from her seat.

Buffy raised her eyebrow. "Really? From here it looks as if Willow is the only one mastering baking of any kind."

"Well…" Dawn paused. "I guess we're more like the bakerettes, really."

Buffy gave them an ironic thumbs up. "Thees aw weely guh" she told them, as she stuffed her face at the same time.

"Told you you'd like our confectionary delights" Harry said haughtily.

Buffy smiled and flipped him the bird.

"Glad to know you care" Harry huffed.

Buffy ignored him, snagging a few cookies for later. She cleared her throat in an important manner. "I have an important announcement." They all looked at her expectantly. "I'm er, going to bed."

"Wow" Willow said, glancing at the clock. "It's so early. Is this some sort of personal record?"

"Probably" Buffy answered mock-gravely, before tromping up the stairs.

Still munching on her second cookie, Buffy felt her stomach drop uncomfortably as her mind turned to less pleasant thoughts. She couldn't possibly share another revealing dream with Harry, could she? That was some messed up, 'sorry, wrong number' deal wasn't it? Buffy threw on her pajamas, hoping strangely to go through that pesky REM stage hours before Harry even closed his eyes.

Buffy didn't know what was wrong with her sometimes. She wanted to be happy, she really did. But that dream had ripped through the seams of all her excuses and reminded her why she sometimes felt so empty in the first place. These last few months, Buffy felt as if she had been walking down a tightrope and failing utterly. Too cheerful. Too depressed. Too nothing.

That night the dream was different. Strange and disjointed and somehow familiar. _The man walked, always ahead of her, always out of reach. Nothing but cardboard boxes, rows and rows, a maze of dusty, hazy artifacts for attic storage. _

_Something cold and molten will tear one apart. And then **she's** gonna split the world apart._

Morning came and for once, Buffy didn't remember a single snatch of her nighttime visions.

* * *

Tara came to visit the next morning. Xander and Anya had an early appointment with a wedding planner. There were less people for Willow to hide behind today. No safety barrier between her and Tara. 

Just by glancing at her, Buffy could feel Willow's uncertainty and nervousness rolling off in waves. She twisted a dishtowel in her hands uncomfortably, her stranglehold on the cloth tightening and wavering in sporadic bursts.

The doorbell rang and Buffy and Willow glanced at each other uneasily. "I'll get the door!" Dawn answered quickly, an expectant and slightly joyous tone creeping into her voice.

"Hey Dawnie!" A soft voice issued from the door. Harry glanced between Willow and Buffy, not sure what was going on. A pretty blonde girl walked into the room, a tentative smile on her face. Harry noted the softly focused aura around her. "Willow…"

"Tara…" she managed to croak out.

Tara. Willow's ex. That explained things.

Silence reigned for an awkward minute. Willow and Tara seemed content to simply stare at each other. Tara broke contact as suddenly as it had begun, turning her eyes away almost as if she was ashamed.

"Tara, meet Harry Potter, Harry meet Tara Maclay" Dawn issued the introductions.

Tara let out a surprised "oh!" A flicker of recognition passed through her face. "Harry Potter?"

"One and only" Harry answered awkwardly.

Buffy joined in, confused. "Wait, you guys know each other?"

"I—I know of him. We don't know each other" Tara clarified. "You've picked up an interesting guest since I've been gone."

"Yeah, it's one of those crazy, meet-cute stories" Buffy said, not elaborating. Harry shot her a sardonic look. 'Meet cute?' he mouthed sarcastically. Buffy answered with her own slightly scornful look. "I forgot that Harry was like, famous."

Tara answered hesitantly. "It's just that I've read in some of the books at the magic shop—and a couple mentioned Voldemort and Harry Potter." She looked back at Harry apologetically. As Harry and Tara settled into pleasant conversation, Willow quietly slipped out of the room. Who was she kidding? Tara couldn't even look at her.

* * *

The bell above the door tinkled as Harry and Buffy entered the café. "Grab a table, I'm picking out dessert" Buffy told him commandingly. 

"Whatever you say." He paused. "Dessert first? Fattie!"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Do us all a favor and grab a table." When she wasn't looking, Harry jumped in the air and pumped his fist. Buffy turned around, her look slightly incredulous. "I saw that!"

"Erm…I'll go get—get that table." Harry moseyed towards the back of the café and seated himself. He fiddled with his fork as he waited. Going out to lunch with Buffy would be relaxing after a full day of writing reports. Harry recalled his brief meeting with Tara and smiled. She really was a nice girl.

A sudden pop caused Harry to jerk his head up. "Wuh--!" A pale, dark-haired man with a pointed face sat serenely in the seat opposite from Harry. "Er…I don't mean to be impolite, but who exactly are you?"

The man let out a low laugh and held his hand out to Harry. "Torrance Tackleby. And you are Mr. Potter. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." His lips pressed together in a long fleshy smile. Harry had the sudden urge to snatch his hand back.

"A pleasure to meet you too" Harry said, not really feeling so. A muggle girl at a nearby table looked at Harry and Torrance strangely before shaking her head and going back to her lunch. Harry glanced around nervously. "Are you sure it was wise, apparating like that? There are muggles everywhere."

Torrance gave Harry a humorous, yet slightly patronizing smile. "As a ministry official much like yourself, I know how to take care of myself around muggles. Besides, the muggles on the hellmouth are even more clueless than most." He motioned to the girl who had looked at them earlier. "You see, she now realizes that what she saw was nothing more than a trick of the light." Tackleby gave another low laugh.

Harry joined in half-heartedly, his gaze flickering to Buffy, who was still at the counter. "So, Mr. Tackleby? What brings you to Sunnydale? I thought I was the only Ministry official stationed here."

Tackleby's demeanor suddenly turned cold. "Ah, yes." Tackleby glanced at Buffy, who was at the counter ordering. "You've neglected your duties." He fixed Harry with a pointed and slightly unnerving stare. "Spend a little less time with the bird and a little more time on the job."

Harry felt shards of ice and anger mix up in his stomach. "I've done my job. I send my Ministry reports every other day on the dot. I'm not quite sure what you're implying."

Tackleby coldly assessed him. "You'd be a fool to think the Ministry didn't know about your little…_escapades_. You're not living in the flat you were provided with. Moved in with the blonde." Tackleby leaned in slightly, an eager yet disquieting smile on his face. "Some advice to you Mister Potter. Drop her."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, his tone venomous. "And why should I do that?" His mind was racing. Did they know the slayer? What exactly was going on?

"She's a distraction. And trust me, kid. You're on a hellmouth. The last thing you need is a distraction like her." Tackleby's eyes swept over Buffy's form. "And what a distraction she is."

Harry grabbed his dinner fork in a stranglehold, keeping himself from doing what he really wanted to; grab his wand. His voice was filled with barely suppressed rage. "I suggest you get out of my sight. Now."

Tackleby laughed. "Temper, temper Mr. Potter. I hope only that you will heed my words." With a slight pop, the man was gone.

Harry took a calming breath, still not sure how to interpret what had just happened. _Interpret? What is there to bloody interpret? He told you what he wanted pointblank. _What was the Ministry playing at? And was Tackleby really from the Ministry? Harry still didn't know what thought disturbed him most.

"Hey" Buffy said, coming back with two delicious looking slices of cake in her hand. "Dessert is served."

* * *

Buffy clicked her new cellphone shut as she and Harry stumbled into the house laughing. "Oh man, that was great" Buffy said, doubled over with laughter. 

"So you knew them at school?" Harry asked.

"Well, I knew one of them. Jonathon. They're all total nerds though. I can't believe that they think they're my evil nemesis-s-s now. Or that they were the ones who've been playing those lame tricks on me for the past couple months."

"So how did Willow discover them?"

"That's the funny thing. Anya decided that the Magic Box's new thing should be home deliveries. And she asked Willow to drop some things off at one of the customer's houses. The lady let her into the house and said her son wasn't there, but she could leave it in the basement. And in the basement, apparently they have like a big laboratory type thing. And—and—A BIG BOARD!"

"A big board?" Harry questioned, not quite getting it.

"Yeah, like a big dry-erase board. And they wrote all of their 'evil' plans up there. I think she said that one of them was turning me into a monkey or a slave, or something." Buffy wrinkled her nose before bursting into laughter again.

The pair wandered towards the kitchen. As they were just about to lower themselves onto the kitchen seats, a tapping noise at the window interrupted.

Buffy whipped around, grabbing her stake. "What was that?"

Harry looked out the window. "Don't worry, it's just an owl. It's probably for me."

"Um, is that normal?"

"Perfectly" Harry responded, grinning as he lifted the window.

The owl hopped demurely onto Harry's arm as he undid the parchment scroll.

_Harry, mate, hope you've been enjoying your vacation on the hellmouth. Hermione told me that you're living with some girl now. Don't worry, I'll slap you when I get there for never telling me about that little development. Something that I'm not gonna write down might happen soon. Near you. Right, so be a dear and write back immediately. I need some apparition coordinates. I'll be there as soon as I get your reply._

_--Ron _

* * *

**A/**N: That's right people, Ronnie-kins is a-headin' to the hellmouth! I'm excited. Are you excited? 


End file.
